Rabbi Evan Moffic
Chicago Sinai Congregation
August 10, 2007
What does the date April 15 conjure up in your minds?... The day is preceded by a flurry of activity. Making sure we have all our receipts—putting together W2 forms and 1099s; adding up charitable contributions…It takes a great deal of effort. Some of us begin in January—others on April 14th. Whatever the case, we probably feel a bit anxious, perhaps overwhelmed as the date approaches. We need to finish our accounting.
In Jewish tradition, we are also entering a period of accounting. It is not accounting for tax purposes. It is accounting for moral purposes. The month before the holy days of Rosh Hashanah is a time for what our sages call chesbon hanefesh. This phrase literally means “an accounting of the soul.” During this month, we inventory our lives. We look back at the past year and gather the receipts of our actions, of our choices, of our words. When we finish this inventory, we do not bring it to our accountant. Rather, we bring it to ourselves. We review it with our hearts and our minds. We learn what we owe by figuring out where we can improve. Then we pay our taxes, so to speak, through our actions, through our changes in behavior.
How do we go about doing this heshbon hanefesh, this accounting of the soul? The first step is taking inventory. We can go back over the past year. We think of words we said, of decisions we made, of time we wasted, that we might regret. I always find it useful to look back at my calendar for the prior year. It not only brings back memories, but it helps me think about what I did, and where I could have done more. It is also useful to talk to our spouse or our friends, our parents or our children. We can ask them: what could I have done differently this year? Was I sensitive at the right times? Was I present when I needed to be?
As we gather this inventory, we must write it down. Writing it down not only helps imprint it in our minds, but it helps us in formulating our response. I am always looking for better ways to stay organized and focused, and I recently came across a fantastic book that might be familiar. It is called Getting Things Done by David Allen. Allen’s theory is that we manage actions rather than time. We can’t control the flow of time. It is the same for everyone. But we can control what we do with that time. We take action. And to make the best use of that time, we must know all the possibilities for action. Therefore, we must write everything down. He urges us to write down every possible thing—big and little—that we seek to do. These are both the practical necessities and our dreams—from refill the stapler to work for world peace.
The second step is to review our inventory. As we review it, we also categorize it. We can see, for example, when we could have put more effort into a work-related task. We can see where we might have let a relationship slip. We can see where we might have used our time better, where we might have been able to contribute to tikkun olam, repair of the world. Once we categorize, we can review. We can review not with a mind toward guilt—but with a mind toward action. A little guilt, as my psychiatrist father has told me, can sometimes help. But our goal now is understanding and change.
This review is an absolutely critical step. How many times have we made lists of things to do, and then forgotten about them as we focused on a new project at hand? This is easy to do. Our minds wonder. Urgencies invade. Yet, if we want to do a thorough moral accounting, and pay our taxes accurately, we must review.
I find it useful to do a weekly review in the month before Rosh Hashanah. Taking a bit of time, perhaps on Friday afternoon, to look back over what I have already written down and think of ways to change—this is both inspiring and invigorating. David Allen calls the weekly review the “the master key” of effective action management. It reminds of us what we are trying to do, and gives us a reading, on a timely basis, of how we are doing.
The final step is action. It is paying our taxes by changing our behavior. This is extremely difficult. This is why we have a year between these high holy days and the next. Often, we want change in theory, but we militate against it in practice. Indeed, there is a story about a woman who proudly hung on her mantelpiece a needlework plaque that said “Prayer changes things.” A few days later, the plaque was missing. The woman asked her husband if he had seen it. ‘I took it down, I didn’t like it,’ he replied. ‘But why?’ the woman asked. ‘Don’t you believe that prayer changes things?’ ‘Yes, I honestly do,’ he answered.’ ‘But it just so happens that I don’t like change, so I threw it away!’” (Eric Lankin, “Do We Really Want Change,” in Rosh Hashanah Readings, 27)
Change is hard, and many of us resist it. But the key is taking the first step…then taking another and another. I believe that the challenge of change is one of the reasons we come to temple. The presence of friends, family, the community strengthens us. Praying, even if we are unsure of God’s nature or role in our lives, can be reassuring. If we take the first step, we will gain support along the way. A Chasidic parable captures this truth. There was a king with a son he loved very much. As the son grew, however, he began heading down the wrong path. The king realized that the palace was not the right place for him. So he sent him to a village, and occasionally dispatched aides to make sure he was growing up properly. The son struggled to change, and it was difficult. Yet, he soon realized that he needed to return. He was the song of a king. When the king learned the news, he cried for joy. Prepare my carriage, he said. I will meet him half-way.
The story is a classic Jewish parable: The king is God, and the son is the people. Even when the people have strayed far away from God’s path, when they seek to return, God is able to come and meet them half-way. God can support and sustain as we struggle to change. Yet, we need to take the first steps. Useful ways I have found for facilitating this include envisioning ourselves having completed the change. Just like athletes who visualize themselves hitting the ball or making the shot, we can see ourselves as we become a different person. We can also continue the process of writing down and reviewing all year long. People often pay taxes in quarterly increments, even out of their paychecks every two week. We also can try to implement a regular moral inventory and improvement schedule.
On Rosh Hashanah, it is customary to read the story of the binding of Isaac. In it, God commands Abraham to sacrifice his favored son Isaac. Yet, just as Abraham is about to do so, an angel stops him. The great rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel recalls that as he was reading this story for the first time, he cried. His father asked him why he was crying. He replied, “I am afraid the angel will come too late.” His father hugged him and whispered, “Angels are never too late.” This is a beautiful story with an enduring lesson. Angels can never be too late, but that is the difference between them and us. We can be too late. Our time is limited.
Just as we struggle not to be late with our taxes, let us promise not to delay our cheshbon hanefesh, our inventory of the soul. As the High Holy Days approach, let us commit ourselves to serious self-evaluation and change. Zeh Hayom Asah Adonai: This, this is the time that each of us can to become the person we are meant to be.